I love this song like I love a biscuit crust. It’s the soundtrack for today’s post.

Check my Southern-fried style
And my Southern flow

(Southern girl)

I share my life with another Southern girl—and if you missed her beautiful okra post from last week, I dare you not to fall in love with her fried & pickled versions. Jill and I both have a sense of what it means to be a badass Southern woman, banging around in kitchen, with a cast-iron skillet and a will to match. We model our vision on our mothers, her father’s sisters, women I knew in my Memphis childhood.

They are brash and busy and hilarious. They do not coddle, or mince words. Their praise does not come easily, making it even more valuable. They look as good in hunting cammo as they do in cocktail dresses. They can be as frightening as they can be gracious. Their respect, once lost, is difficult to earn back. They are loyal and they don’t take any shit. They cook everything well.

This recipe made the internet rounds last summer, but you might have missed it. AND THAT WOULD BE A SHAME. Because this pie is crazy-delicious. A wee bit time consuming but not all that difficult to put together. And totally worth it.

While you’re going through the trouble, I highly recommend making two pies, so you can eat one and gift the other to some lucky soul. Know any new parents? Grieving friends? Vegetarians? Coworkers who can’t cook to save their life? They’ll love you forever if you give them one of these.

Combine the tomatoes, corn, herbs, salt, & pepper in a bowl. Toss gently and set aside.

for the crust:

2 cups flour

¾ cup buttermilk (regular milk will work, too)

6 T unsalted butter, cut into small cubes

1 T baking powder

¾ tsp. salt

Whisk together the dry ingredients, then cut in the butter with your fingers, pressing and crumbling until the mixture looks like a cross between gravel & sand. Pour in the milk or buttermilk and knead the dough lightly with your hands until it just comes together into a ball.

pan: 9 or 10-inch pie plate

oven: 400˚

Divide the biscuit dough in half. On a floured surface, gently roll or press out one of the halves until it will cover the bottom & sides of your pie plate. Drape it in the pie pan, snugging it in and adjusting where need be. If there’s overhang, leave it there for now.

Time to fill your pie!—and be warned, this baby’s gonna be FULL when all is said & done, but fret not—all will end well.

Cover the crust with half of the tomato/corn mixture. Sprinkle half the cheese on top. Layer the rest of the tomato/corn mixture atop the cheese, then pour the lemon mayonnaise on top of everything. Sprinkle with remaining cheese.

Now, roll out the other half of the biscuit dough until it’s big enough to cover the behemoth of a pie you just constructed. Gently drape it over everything, pinching it together with the bottom layer around the rim of the pie plate. Don’t worry if you have to patch & cobble the top crust—I’ve done this before and the pie still tastes delicious.

Use a sharp knife to cut four vents in the top of the pie, as if you were drawing a cross or a compass-N, S, E, W. Melt a little butter on the stove or in the microwave, then brush it all over that biscuit crust. Awww yeah.

Bake the pie for 30-35 minutes, or until the crust is nice and golden. Cool for at least 10-15 minutes on a rack before serving. Serve hot or warm.

You can also cool the pie completely, refrigerate it, and then reheat it the next day, in a 350˚ oven for 20-25 minutes.